


Starshine

by onepercent



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, THEY DESERVE IT, let them be happy, literally not joking its just them boys bein fluffy and stuff, softjoltaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepercent/pseuds/onepercent
Summary: Grantaire spends a long weekend away from Enjolras, who misses him lots. Cue extreme amounts of fluff.





	Starshine

**Author's Note:**

> I have a calculus midterm in approx 12 hrs and instead of studying i just decided to write this there is literally no plot at all its just fluff so prepare yourself for that I guess.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Walking into the apartment after a few days of being gone was like being violently assaulted by a functioning pizza oven. The heat immediately made the ends of Grantaire’s scarf wilt, and his coat seemed to grow instantly heavier. He quickly peeled himself of out all of his layers--though even the sweater he was left with made him feel itchy and claustrophobic--and called out, “Enjolras?”

Enjolras had moved in about a month and a half ago after almost a year of being “serious”. This, of course, made Grantaire very happy. Though he was originally nervous that living together in the same space all the time would lead to more explosive fights and pent-up anger, it in fact did the opposite in that they were basically forced to deal with their issues since there was nowhere else to hide, and subsequently, they learned to coexist without ripping each others’ heads off.

That made it sound like all they did was fight, which wasn’t necessarily true. After they had settled together as a couple, their arguments were less “I don’t understand or endorse your political ideals or methodology, therefore I don’t understand you as a person and I don’t like that” and more “I don’t understand your terrible taste in music, therefore I will blast Britney Spears at high decibel levels for increasingly long periods of time so you will change your mind”. It worked for them, to say the least.

Living with Enjolras had given Grantaire insight to things he hadn’t noticed before about his partner, like how he was physically incapable of staying on his side of the bed, or how he meticulously washed every single dish immediately after cooking with it; how he chronically set chapsticks or pens or hair ties down just to proclaim them lost a few hours later, how he didn’t fold his laundry before putting it in drawers, how he was never, ever barefoot, and how he always complained to Grantaire that it was too cold inside. 

Grantaire sighed. Enjolras nagged Grantaire about the thermostat at least four times a day, especially now that Paris was actually starting to get ice and snow. At first, Grantaire would point out that it was at seventy degrees like it always was and it was perfectly fine, but Enjolras would get more and more insistent until Grantaire would have to drag himself off of the couch or out of bed to go mess with the device in the kitchen. He had in the beginning actually flipped it up a few degrees or so, but Enjolras would always say he couldn’t tell and would try to turn it up more so Grantaire usually just pretended to fiddle with it for a few seconds to appease his partner. Compromise and all that.

Which led one to the oppressive heat now settled all over everything like a thick layer of dust. When Grantaire left for the long weekend to go to an out-of-town art show, he wasn’t expecting to return to find his apartment had been swallowed by all the heat of a Caribbean beach, but with none of the palm trees or skimpy bathing suits or swim floaties, which were literally the only fun part about staying in the blistering sun for hours. Anyways. 

Enjolras had probably turned up the thermostat at some point while Grantaire was gone, and had just left before its full effects had been felt. He was probably at the library or the cafe working on his bio paper that he literally hadn’t quit doing research for for weeks, blissfully unaware to the way the apartment was about as hot as the surface of a white dwarf star ready to explode itself in a blaze of glory and hydrogen. (Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but Grantaire was nothing if not his flair for such theatrics.)

Grantaire set his bag down on the kitchen bar and stumbled directly over his absurdly fat and bossy cat Crumb, who was licking its paw in front of the fridge without a care in the world. Enjolras convinced him to get it before they had started living together, since his old building didn’t allow pets while R’s did, so it was his in writing but Enjolras’ in principle. He spoiled the shit out of it with expensive treats and complicated toys and loads of scratchy things to claw at so it wouldn’t destroy the furniture. Grantaire mostly stayed out of its way on the count of multiple near-death experiences involving its teeth and nails. 

He held his thumb on the “down” button of the thermostat for a long minute, not even bothering to see what godforsaken temperature Enjolras had set it at. The clock beside it said it was only about eight PM--not too late, but Grantaire had been driving back home for the better part of a day and the exhaustion was starting to blur his vision and make his back ache. He mostly wanted to take a shower and go straight to bed, maybe cuddle a pillow until Enjolras returned from wherever he was and then cuddle him, instead. He yawned, stepping delicately over Crumb to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, drinking half of it in one go. He set it on the counter, where he noticed Enjolras’ keys and wallet, which was strange, as he always had those with him when he was out, especially if he knew R wouldn’t be home. 

A little more alert at that, Grantaire called out again, “Enjolras?” He didn’t really expect an answer, and he didn’t get one. “Maybe he is actually heeding my great advice for once and decided to go to bed early”, he thought to himself, however outlandish the idea of Enjolras going to bed at a reasonable time might have been. Enjolras probably would have forgone sleep altogether if it wasn’t required to, like, not die. However much Grantaire liked to joke he wasn’t, Enjolras was mortal and thus bound by the same rules of existence as everyone else, for better or for worse.

Walking down the short hallway to their bedroom, he saw this wasn’t true either--their bed was empty and still made from this morning (which Enjolras insisted upon doing every day before he went to class, despite Grantaire’s protests that it would just get mussed up when they got back in it in the evenings). However, a thin strip of yellow light glowed from below the closed door to their bathroom, soft in the dusky lighting of the bedroom. Grantaire knocked three times, quickly. “Enjolras?” he said softly. He couldn’t hear the shower or sink running or the noisy hum of Enjolras’ electric toothbrush that he insisted upon using, all of which might have made him deaf to Grantaire’s earlier commotion. 

The door was unlocked, so when he didn’t get a response yet again, he just pushed it open. He didn’t exactly know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Enjolras, completely asleep in the full bathtub. His face, serene, leaned against his arm draped over the side of the tub, his hair splaying out in the slowly swirling water, surely lukewarm by now. Based on the color and faint scent in the air, he had used some of the rose oil Grantaire knew Enjolras bought solely because R had once mentioned in passing that he liked the smell lingering in his golden hair, which he always got a face full of whenever they cuddled. A softcover book laid face-down by Enjolras’ relaxed fingertips, probably dropped once he had started to drift off to sleep. 

Grantaire stood and admired the scene for a little while before realizing he was being creepy, just staring at his sleeping partner, and quietly walked over to the edge of the tub. He gently shook Enjolras’ shoulder and ran his thumb over his soft, relaxed cheek with a smile. “Good morning, starshine,” he murmured, “the earth says ‘hello’...”

Enjolras’ eyes scrunched up a little before his white-blond eyelashes fluttered open. “Grantaire,” he said, his voice scratchy and deep. “You’re home.”

“I just got back,” replied Grantaire. “I found you fallen asleep in the tub. You had the heat up so high, I think I almost had a heat stroke when I walked in the door--no wonder you fell asleep so fast with it so warm in here.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Enjolras, running a wet and raisined hand over his eyes. He looked unfairly sweet like this, a far cry from his usual intensity. R treasured the moments like these, where Enjolras hadn’t yet put up all his barriers for the day and he could just bask in his partner’s warmth. 

“Don’t be,” replied Grantaire, running a soothing hand up and down Enjolras’ upper arm. “I was just a little confused is all, when I called out your name when I came home and you didn’t reply; I just figured you had gone out to the library to study or the cafe to eat dinner, but--”

Enjolras shot up like a rocket, water sloshing around the tub and splashing out the sides, getting Grantaire’s jeans more than a little wet. “Grantaire,” he said suddenly, with only a trace of the sleepiness in his voice but a moment ago, “what time is it?”

“Um, like eight fifteen-ish, probably,” said Grantaire, confused. 

“Shit,” muttered Enjolras, standing up fully and stepping out of the tub, dripping all over the tile as he snatched a towel from the rack and wrapped himself up with it. “Our reservation is at half-past, I can get dressed really fast and we can only be a few minutes late--”

 

“What are you talking about?” frowned Grantaire, pushing up to stand, too. “Reservation for what?”

“For dinner,” said Enjolras, exasperated, apparently not wanting to elaborate any further due to how he pushed past Grantaire and began pilfering through the products on the vanity like a determined raccoon. 

Grantaire reached out and tugged on Enjolras’ forearm, willing for him to stop buzzing around and just be still. “Why do we have a dinner reservation? You didn’t tell me anything about this before I left.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” said Enjolras miserably as he twitched a little in Grantaire’s grip. “I wanted to make it up for you for not being able to go to your thing this weekend because I had that bio paper and I know I work too much so I couldn’t go but I missed you. I was taking a bath so I would smell like the flowers you like but I fell asleep but we can still make it only ten minutes late if I hurry and don’t dry my hair--”

“I was only gone for four days, Enjolras, and I told you it wasn’t a big deal,” Grantaire said gently. He knew Enjolras was upset about this, and he didn’t want to make it any worse. “You don’t have to make anything up to me.”

“But I wanted to,” said Enjolras, a little frustrated. “Can you please let go of me, I need to go put on a shirt.”

Grantaire sighed. “We’re not going to dinner, Enjolras,” he said. “I’ll call the restaurant and cancel the reservation or move it to tomorrow evening--”

“We can still make it tonight, though--” Enjolras interjected, furrowing his eyebrows.

Grantaire pulled him closer and intertwined both of their hands. “Enjolras, I’ve been driving all day and all I really want to do is go to bed, and I know you need that too because you’ve been working your ass off for that paper so hard you fell asleep in the tub,” he said, his mouth curling into a soft smile. “It was really nice and thoughtful for you to plan this but we can do it tomorrow just as well as today, and we both need the rest more than a fancy dinner. Okay?”

Enjolras deflated just a little and bit the inside of his cheek, which he did whenever he thought Grantaire was right, which to be fair was not very often. “I guess…”

Grantaire kissed the small frown on his partner’s lips away, and they both leaned into it probably more than expected. Although he was only gone for about four days, he really had missed Enjolras’ constant presence, buzzing around as he worked and studied and argued with Grantaire.

“C’mon, then,” murmured Grantaire, pulling Enjolras out of the bathroom and onto their bed, flopping down next to each other. Grantaire kicked off his jeans while Enjolras pulled on a pair of pajama pants, and they curled toward each other under the covers (it was still pretty hot in the apartment, but Grantaire wasn’t really going to complain anymore, not when he had Enjolras snug as a bug in his arms). 

“Goodnight, R,” said Enjolras. 

“Goodnight, starshine,” said Grantaire. They fell asleep together not long after.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!! If you liked it even a little bit, please leave some kudos or a comment, they really make my day.


End file.
